Evolve or Die! 18.

We arrived at Marks and Spencer in Kensington High Street ten minutes ahead of time. Scruff doesn't do any preening at all (you might have noticed), and I dress simply as well. I parked the faithful grey Jag safely and set the electric security device to deliver nasty shocks to would-be thieves. Emily, now totally invisible, followed us.
I like Marks and Spencer. When I was a student, I had a job there (not the one in Kensington), and I rather enjoyed it. Some of the things they sell are another matter, of course...
Taking Scruff into a smart clothing store is rather amusing. well-dressed people give her funny looks. And I don't just mean old people. I mean everyone. Scruff, of course, doesn't care, though she stuck her tongue out at a couple of people who stared at her.
We sat down in the cafe. Emily sat next to me, and Scruff sat opposite. She lay back in her chair and smiled.
"So, what do you think?"
"No idea, I'm afraid," I replied. "Diana's working at the Natural History Museum, and there's a lot of people on the staff there."
"Do you think one of them could be Toxic?" Scruff leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. The sleeves of her baggy sweater slipped down.
"Could be. But why? You know as well as I do that even the most insane serial killers have a motive. There's no such thing as a motiveless killing."
"I know that, sis - you taught me that. Gosh, before I thought there was."
"It all depends on how you define motive," I pointed out. "For example, there was one case where a councillor was killed walking down Hammersmith High Street. The police were baffled, he was popular, a good man. I discovered that the killing had been an initiation test for entry to the Guild of Assassins. In other words, the motive was nothing to do with the selected victim. But there was still a motive."
"You're a pretty good detective."
"I know. I just wish they wouldn't call me 'The World's Cutest Detective', it sounds... well, like I'm not very good at the detective part."
"That's a lie." Scruff looked at the clock. "Diana's late."
I looked too. She was. Five minutes late.
"It's probably nothing," I said.
But ten minutes passed. Suddenly my 'phone rang. I answered it in a flash. It was Diana.
"Jane!" she cried. "I'm in trouble! It's Toxic! I found..."
Then she was silenced.
Diana was in serious trouble!